


Don't Look Back

by raviolitheif



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Clothed Sex, Drabble, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Rutting, Semi-Public Sex, very brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raviolitheif/pseuds/raviolitheif
Summary: "young mchanzo in cramped places, feverish actions, mounting heat, rutting in an alley way and coming in their pants"





	Don't Look Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysteryprof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysteryprof/gifts), [psycholinguist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psycholinguist/gifts), [sparrrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrrows/gifts).



> just a lil drabble from the hanzo discord

The alleyway wasn’t ideal; it was dark, dank, cramped and close to heavy foot traffic if one stepped to close to the yellow light of the lamp nearby. But they didn’t care,  _ couldn’t _ care, not when it meant that they were together. Not when it meant that they could breathe one another in, exhale fleetingly only to inhale greedily in hopes of taking in as much of each other as possible. It was a desperate display, really, two young men hopelessly trying to hold onto someone that they simply couldn’t have, not truly. 

“Han, baby, the hotel--” Jesse croaked, head pressing back against the aged, uneven bricks of the building Hanzo had pressed him up against.

“Is being watched by my family. We will have to make do with what we have.” Hanzo interrupted him, a well-muscled thigh wedging its way between Jesse’s own. “And we have this alleyway.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, sug,” Jesse sighed, turning his face to make room for Hanzo’s ever-travelling lips. “But you better make it quick, babe, ain’t exactly what I’d call private,” he noted, making a broad gesture to the throngs of people just a few feet away. Hanzo smirked against Jesse’s pulse, bit down and let a hand slip under the tight material of Jesse’s black shirt, the other trailing down tellingly.

“If I didn’t know any better, Jesse,” he purred, palm stopping right over McCree’s clothed length, “I would say you don’t mind it as much as you claim to.” He bit at the lobe of Jesse’s freckled ear, earning him a deep moan that made his heart race. “You worry about being caught and yet you moan loudly enough for all of Hanamura to hear?” He asked sarcastically, rubbing the growing bulge firmly.

“M’not w-worried if they catch me with  _ my  _ pants down,” Jesse breathed, chest heaving as Hanzo pressed their clothed hips together and began to rut against him. “Ain’t it  _ you _ who's gotta worry?”

“You talk too much,” Hanzo rasped against Jesse’s stubbly jaw. Jesse was about to protest, mouth falling open to speak, but instead of words all that escaped him was a muffled, wobbly groan that made Hanzo’s lips vibrate as he kissed Jesse deeply. Their eyes fell shut and kiss by messy, perfect kiss, their surroundings fell away. Gone were the footsteps, and the people the they belonged to. Gone were the streetlamps and the intrusive light that dared expose them. Gone were the buildings and the sights and sounds of the city, and gone was the alleyway they stood in.

It was just Hanzo and Jesse in the middle of a sea of existence, the air about them full of the one word they couldn’t bring themselves to say. Not yet. Words weren’t everything though, and they could feel the emotion weighing on them comfortable even without putting voices to the syllables.

Muffled groans became unrestrained panting and desperate whines for more,  _ more, god please more.  _ Hitched whines turned into full blown begging, complete with bucking hips, breathy, broken pleas and hands clawing for purchase against soft fabric. Compliments were given and received in hushed tones, praise making them shiver desperately against one another until it all crescendoed to an unbearable level, shaking, warbling, and wonderful. Heaven on earth in a pair of strong arms, the smells of festival food and cherry trees filling their noses as they took in greedy lungfuls of the air between them.

Voices broke and cracked, bodies twitching and scrambling to be closer, always closer, even as matching patches of wetness began to stain their pants rapidly. Harsh breaths became the new beat to which they swayed, still grinding against one another until the sensation became more painful than pleasurable, all overstimulation instead of bliss.

Hanzo leaned his forehead, wet with a thin sheen of dewy sweat, against Jesse’s exposed collarbone. Jesse held him close, unwilling to part so soon after whatever it was they had just done.

The word always unspoken hung between them the way it always did, heavy and oppressive but not ready to be voiced.

They stayed together until the street lights dimmed and the foot traffic grew sparse. When they parted, it was bittersweet, and neither of them looked back.


End file.
